A mask of morality am I Cold and hungry Eating Empty words Feeding empty souls Biting and chewing my sickness Consuming nothingness forever full of it Empty words to please them Thoughts I hide to save them Dreams I embrace to leave it Lying to myself Singing to a tune Tunes falling one by one Into rows Into walls A pretty box am I A moral dish I serve Hiding beneath those lies Sleeping beneath those songs Dancing to the same drummer As the different ones danced to before Licking the wound Try to make it clean wash away this pain No mask too pretty No voice too soft No thought too petty No pain to sweet And I wear the mask Yes a moral mask am I
Reason for writing:
hmm I keep having some very illuminating conversations with a friend of mine about the social life of teen agers though this actually seems to thread in with life at any age, we all tell little lies to make people feel comfortable.. To make things easier on ourselves. Though this may be necessary at times I wish we could just be honest about everything. It also reflects my feelings about day to day life at times.. Originality is a rare commodity.. I don't feel comfortable if I am put under any sort of restrictions. The metaphor for this is the box. We all wear them... I just don't want to become them.
Birth sign: Capricorn
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Fawn.